


annus

by balisong



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1960s, Drabble, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Songfic, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-14 10:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balisong/pseuds/balisong
Summary: When Allen finds his soulmate—and he's sure this time—there's only one feeling that is dominant over the strangling cocophany of the everything else involving love: fear. The mild and sun-drenched climate of 1960's California follows the course of Allen and Alfred's blossoming, albeit turmultuous, relationship over one year.





	annus

**Author's Note:**

> hiya! i've been into hetalia for way too long. and i'm still writing shit smh. heres's to my first ao3 fic!  
> this is heavily referencing and loosely based around the album pet sounds by the beach boys!  
> this is the first part of four in total, stick around for more if you want i guess lmao

_SUMMER, 1967_.  
— _WOULDN’T IT BE NICE._  
  
            Allen’s eyes trace languidly the form before him. Alfred is Greek in his physique; the idealized object of his desire. Does he even acknowledge the power he possesses? With those encompassing contours of his body, the alluring cerulean of his eyes (Allen swears they had the ability to glitter like the sea), the golden-wheat atop his head which shimmered under the light of his halo provided by the sun. He could be holy. An angel, like Gabriel—  
       His eyes must tear away from the sun-kissed skin and the visceral muscle underneath, when a volleyball is headed directly towards his line of vision, intercepting his adoration. When he jumps, he spikes, ball hitting the sand with a splash of particles. Alfred laughs.  
     “I didn’t see that coming!” He says, excitedly. His voice was always on the verge of grown man and sappy-hearted teenager with the inflection of a golden retriever. Golden everything.  
    In return, Allen smirks darkly. Their contrasting auras are much too different and complemented each other perfectly. Allen was healing wounds from nights he doesn’t remember. Countering this, Alfred was healed white scars in times that were branded too, too deeply and too vividly in his memory. Things he doesn’t want to remember and wishes he could forget. Things that were covered up by his smiling demeanor, somehow. Things that did not resurface unless it was the night terrors, or the days he wouldn’t leave the house. But whenever anybody else were to see him—anyone but Allen, really—he was smiling, sunny.  
     Right now is one of those moments. Right now, the two men—though meager boys at heart they were—soaked up the California sun, Alfred clad in shorts that Allen absolutely could not hinder himself in the slightest from staring at, the latter in red trunks. Just boys, the sun, the shore, a ball and the bliss of recreation.  
      The radio played on as they continued their game, laughing, smiling, Alfred singing along to that familiar tune:  
  
                                         _…You know it's gonna make it that much better_  
_When we can say goodnight and stay together…_  
  
     “Havin’ fun Jones?” Allen says under the breath he was trying to catch. It has been a good forty-five minutes since they had collectively decided that they were both tired and they were sitting now, boyishly bare feet hanging off the edge of the dock as the ocean let herself free to be tossed, ebbing and flowing about.  
     “Yes.” Alfred smiles. It makes something stir in Allen and he felt his wax heart melt under the flame of that gorgeous, simple gesture. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”  
     Feet. Ball between Alfred’s cupped arms. The gentle kiss of skin on Allen’s own dulce complexion when their legs brushed against each other. Allen’s body was comfortably humid, he decides. Moist with porous sweat from being out in the sun, scented like ocean and deep musk. Alfred was too, only sweeter. Cooler.

   They did this for hours, until the night was beginning to peak over the horizon. ‘This’ was languid kisses, jumping into the water, exploring and enjoying the very pureness of it all. They recline on the sand eventually, after passionately exchanging desires.  
     “I know lotsa places,” Says Allen. “I could take you ‘round everywhere.”  
     “Everywhere, huh?” Alfred tilts his head, interested.  
     “Yessir. I got nooks and crannies, plenty of places to…” He smirks, bumping his shin against Alfred’s suggestively. Alfred giggles, ever the more innocent of the two.  
     “I want you to take me everywhere, wherever everywhere is.” Alfred scoots closer so they are shoulder to shoulder. The dog tags on his neck jingle as he does so.  
     “You gotta trust me then.” Allen bites his lip and turns his head to meet eye to eye with those clear sky-blue irises with his own, dark and mysterious.  
“I trust you, Al.”  
Allen smiles. Sharp, toothy, a little crooked. Inside, he felt warm.  
“You trust me?”  
“Yes.”  
“You’re sure?”  
“Of course, Allen. What are you playing around at?” Alfred’s pinky finger brushes over the other his.  
“I just like hearing it.”  
     Alfred rolls his eyes, albeit with a chuckle. “You’re so dirty, Al.”  
  “Am not—okay, yeah, I am, actually.” Allen slips Alfred’s fingers between the gaps in his. Their hands were the same size; they fit as if carved by the gods as puzzle pieces.  
     “No, I just…I’ve never really had anybody tell me that they _trust_ me, y’know? I’m just…I’m always so scared, Alfie, y’know, of this—” Alfred kisses him then. The ocean pardons herself for the moment to subside. All is quiet except for the violently tender gesture. Hands grip each other tighter, one grasps a bare shoulder.  
     “I want to live like this for the rest of my life.” The sun was beginning to dusk; purple hues with orange and blue painted themselves across the sky. The night was a spring-loaded blade just waiting to eject itself to allow the moon to govern her power. They laid back now, eyes lost in each other’s, bliss found nowhere else in the world but here, right now, this moment of time.  
     To think that Allen was falling in _love_ was downright terrifying. This wasn’t love; love was torture. Love was pain. Love is waiting for someone who will never feel for you the same, love is not being good enough. Love was bad. This was not love.  
     This was too natural; he did feel the sparks fly, oh he did, and God did it feel nice. But this scared him more than anything. He kept kissing Alfred, as Alfred kissed back, moaned a quiet chuckle into his mouth, let himself be vulnerable and explored as Allen let whatever universal power conducting this—fate, what have you—guide him.  
     “If we could get married, theoretically, what would that life look like?” He let the question slip out of his mouth without much thought. Alfred looked naturally taken aback yet complied.  
     “I wouldn’t want to be a housewife as appealing as living simply and baking yummy things would be.” He rubs his thumb over Allen’s. “I guess we’d cook together every night, we could have a garden in the back…tomatoes, lemons, uh…” The other man smiles. _Wouldn’t it be nice?_    
     “We could have a dog, y’know, instead of kids.”  
     “Aw, but I like kids!”  
     “Truly unfortunate that were such vile homosexuals.” Allen snickers.  
     “It is! I just wanna spend the rest of my life with you…”  
      “Like this.” Allen kisses Alfred’s mouth slowly.  
      “Precisely like that.” He chuckles.  
      “And this too?” Hands find the waistband of Alfred’s tempting volleyball shorts and pulls them so they snap against his hip.  
     “Ow!”  
     Allen kisses Alfred’s cheek and lets his hand further down, to his inner thighs.  
      “What about this?” He smirks.  
     Alfred bites his lip.  
     “Yes.”  
     “Do you trust me, Alfred?”  
     “Yes, I trust you, Allen.”


End file.
